


Murder Vision

by Gotta_Love_Garcy (kt_anansi)



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Crime Fighting AU, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gen, Private Investigator AU, Vigilante AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-06-27 14:34:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15687357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kt_anansi/pseuds/Gotta_Love_Garcy
Summary: Due to mature content presenting itself in many ways, I feel I need to warn. There are references to drugs, violence and sexual content. If it gets too graphic, I will switch to "Explicit". Thank you.





	1. Origin Story

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tinne_Peeters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinne_Peeters/gifts), [kissedbydragonfire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissedbydragonfire/gifts), [kickassfu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kickassfu/gifts), [AgentMaryMargaretSkitz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentMaryMargaretSkitz/gifts).



> A huge thank you to those that this work is gifted to. You three have been awesome. From beta-reading, to doing graphic edits, to being friends that fangirl with me. Thank you!
> 
> Your encouragement means the world!
> 
> A special dedication to AgentMaryMargretSkitz for coming up with the name MurderVision for the Jiya/Flynn Brotp. 
> 
> I try to deliver the Brotp that the world deserves!

 

 

> _"My nails dig into my skin, as I try my hardest to control the beast inside - I’ve been prodded, changed, made anew, but still I try to keep my heart the same. Still, as the blood seeps out, so does the anger and everything I’ve lost so far, consumes my every thought; at least I’m not alone."_
> 
> _-Kickassfu_
> 
> * * *
> 
>  

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

 

5:30 a.m.

Ugh, Jiya Marri was over it. _Just absolutely over it._ She had been out since 3 am the night before, and now she was supposed to get ready to go to work. Being a Barista hardly suited her “Eccentric” night life. Jiya practiced her best impression of a sore throat, and then dialed the Starbucks a mile down the road.

“Jiya.” Her boss, Marianne, answered curtly. This was her third call in- in two weeks.

“Marianne… ack, ack. I’m sick…” She mustered, while pinching her nose. “I can’t come in today… Ack, ack.”

“Convenient.” She said. “Jiya you are on thin ice. I can’t keep making exceptions for you.”

Jiya rolled her eyes. She really didn’t need the job- she had plenty of inheritance from her father’s death to live on for about a year. And honestly, she could probably have a job in her field with in a week. No amount of free coffee was worth these hellish hours.

“Look,” Jiya realized her nose was still pinched and she let it go. “Marianne, I am sorry, dude. I quit. This job is really getting in the way of my vigilante lifestyle. I will just buy my coffee outright.”

“Whatever.” She said curtly. And hung up.

Jiya wasn’t a fan of being flaky, but the truth was that yes, the job was getting in the way. She had been out late last night because she was busy saving a woman from her estranged husband who had shown up with a baseball bat to prove his love to her. Jiya flipped over and grabbed her bottle of Ambien. She unscrewed the cap, took a pill, and swallowed it with a swig of water from the glass by her bed. The wonderful thing about Ambien was that it seemed to quell her visions and it chased away even vivid dreams. And now that she had eight hours of daytime available to her, it seemed she’d be able to get enough sleep to feel human for the first time in weeks.

Jiya slept a good eight hours. When she woke up, she made eggs and toast, and ate quickly. It was in the shower that a vision finally hit her. She felt it coming on, so she laid down before it took over.

 

 

 

> _“Iris! Iris, darling, it’s okay.” A woman with blonde hair yelled as she ran into a bedroom. She gathered the whimpering child in her arms._
> 
> _“Mommy…” The girl said, as she pointed to something in front of her, out of view._
> 
> _“Garcia!” The woman yelled, before two muffled shots met the victims._
> 
> _A man ran into the room, gun in tow._
> 
> _“Lorena! Iris!” He yelled, “Oh my god. No!” Another shot went through his arm. He groaned in pain and turned around. Raising his gun to shoot at his assailant._

 

Jiya woke to cold water falling on her. She shook as she turned the water off and crawled out of the shower. As she gathered herself, she dried off and quickly dressed. Immediately, she ran to her computer, and put her headset on, and dialed an untraceable number. Once connected, she spoke.

“Hero?” She asked. “Hero, are you there?

“Hey, Viz.” His voice came through on the other end, clear as day. “A little early for a vision, right?”

“Well, they don’t exactly make appointments…” She said. “The details. Woman, blonde, white, her name Lorena. Child, Brunette, I think. Iris. And…” She racked her brain. The details always started to fade quickly. “And a man, Garcia, I think? Tall, brown hair. Tried to defend the woman child. Maybe husband, or father?”

“Garcia?” Hero asked. “What a weird name…” If Jiya knew what he looked like, she’d say she could picture him shaking his head. But, she had never met the man who called himself ‘Hero in a Hoodie’ in person. All she knew was that he was an expert hacker, and he had the tools to do it safely. Tools that Jiya just didn’t have right now. “It looks like there is some heavy encryption on his info, looks like NSA. This will take me an hour… I can send it to you when I am done.” He offered.

“Thanks, I hope they are still alive.” Jiya said. Rarely, she got visions of past events, which Hero would find if that were the case. “If this was in the past, Viz, I would have found it already…”

“And payment? What’s your pay pal again?” She offered. After all, when she met Hero on the dark web six months ago he was moonlighting. Around the time he dropped his voice modulator, he also dropped charging her. Jiya thought that he had a crush on her, but she couldn’t be sure. “Don’t worry about paying me” he said. “You’ll just pay for all our dates when I finally meet you.”

“You have to figure out who I am first.” She chided him.

“Ah, the greatest hack of all time.” Hero said, a smile lacing his voice. “The female heart.”

Jiya rolled her eyes, but truth was her heart fluttered a little when he said stuff like that.

“Alrighty, then. I gotta go! Vision, out!”

“Hero, out!” He said. Then there was a click, and Jiya was alone again.

Jiya knew is was silly, but as far as she could tell, she and Hero had grown up on the same diet of comics and star trek. And she was fine with being her nerdy, geeky self with him.

An hour later an address and names were sent to her.

 

 

 

> _**Garcia and Lorena Flynn** _
> 
> _**313 Sower’s Ct. Modesto, CA.** _

Three hours away. By now, it was 6pm. Jiya grabbed her gun and hopped in her car and raced down the 880. Traffic wasn’t the best, so she’d get there around 10pm. Too bad there wasn’t a clock in her vision. Then it could tell her what time the murders took place. Once she got there, Jiya wondered if she should knock on the door- but the crime might not even occur tonight. Jiya told herself She’d approach if someone came out of the house. Sure enough at 10:45pm, someone came out, the tall man, with a garbage bag in tow.

“Garcia Flynn?” Jiya asked in an exaggerated whisper as she approached him.

“Excuse me?” The man asked, his voice had a light eastern European accent.

“Mr. Flynn, my name is Jiya. You need to take your family now and leave. You are in danger.” The man’s eyes narrowed at her.

“Who sent you?” He growled. Even mildly hunched over, the man was scary when he moved to approach her.

“I- I sent myself.” She said, straightening up to her full 5’3’’ height.

“Why?” He asked. “Why would my family be in danger?”

“I… I had a vision.” She said, usually people believed her when she said that. But, judging by the gun this man pulled out, he didn’t.

“Get off my property. Now.” Jiya raised her arms up in surrender and walked down to her car. What else could she do? She got in, shook her head and drove away. As she went through the drive thru at the local McDonalds, she decided to go back, and just stake out the house. Maybe, just maybe he’d pack up and go.

Jiya had just finished her food when she saw a black shadow slinking up the tresses of the home, and wriggling its self into a window, she sprung into action.

Jiya shot the glass of the front door and slinked her way into the house. They call it a silencer, but she still heard the shots from upstairs. Her stomach lurched. She was too late for the wife and child. If only he had listened. Jiya had learned long ago that trying to force people into safety usually ended up with her looking like the bad guy, or the person worse off than the actual vision she had. She had to respect people’s free will, as hard as that was to do. She ran up the stairs, as the shadow was raising its gun again, she shot the assailant in the head.

“I am so sorry,” she said, looking at Garcia Flynn huddled next to his family. “But, you need to come with me, now.”


	2. Phone a Friend

Jiya drove 90 miles an hour down the interstate… She didn’t slow until they were well away from any possible interaction with the Modesto Police Dept. It only took Flynn an hour to pass out. Before that, he had been staring at his hands, where there was blood from his family’s murder. Jiya felt for him, she really did. Maybe that was why she had taken the risk and made him come with her. She couldn’t explain it, she just had a feeling. A feeling that he was connected to something larger than just his family- he was connected to something that put a target on his back.

The only thing she knew was that she wouldn’t get answers if he was in prison- nor would he. So, here she was driving hellishly fast, with a 6’4” eastern European giant in her car. What would Hero say about this? What would Lucy say about this? Oh, god. Jiya was going to have to call her. She was sure there was no way in hell Flynn was getting up, and Jiya would need help carrying him to the apartment. Jiya began to panic slightly as she remembered her place, it really wasn’t made for roomies to live in. that was ok. Jiya figured the least she could do was let the man who just lost his family have the comfort of a warm bed (even if it was a pull-out couch).

As Jiya reached her apartment, she grabbed her phone. She dialed the only number she had memorized.

* * *

 

Lucy Preston found herself on a rooftop.

_Again._

For the eighth time this week. As her mark took off his clothing and began to initiate some god-awful foreplay, Lucy wondered why people even got married, if they are just going to cheat, and then come to her to get evidence of said cheating before the other one does.

 _No offense_ , Lucy thought to herself as she popped a chip in her mouth, _You could do so much better, babe._ If she could, she would tell the woman in person. She was beautiful and much younger than the man currently fondling her breasts. Lucy took incriminating photo after incriminating photo- assuring her client the best possible settlement in their impending divorce. Growing bored of their vanilla attempts at sex, Lucy took a swig of the whiskey she was carrying in her purse. She then gathered her items and casually jumped off the five-story building she had been perched on.

As her feet hit the ground, she felt her phone vibrate. It was Jiya. She only called this late if something was truly wrong. Lucy was quick to answer.

“Crusty’s Pizza, can I take your order?”

“Lucy? Lucy! Thank God, you’re awake…” Jiya sounded panicked, which made Lucy mildly panicked.

“Is everything okay, Jiya?”

“Uh, yeah… Mostly. Um… can you come to my apartment, I need your help…” Jiya sounded as if she had more to say but couldn’t do so over the phone.

“Gimme ten. On my way.” She said as she hung up and began to run toward her friend’s apartment.

When Lucy arrived, she had to wait just three minutes for Jiya to roll up in her car. Of course, she would be turning around the block- Lucy had taught her well. When Jiya got out of the car she was jumpy.

“Before you get upset or worried, just help me. Okay? I’ll explain everything inside.” Jiya was nodding, and giving her a defensive expression already.

“Okay…” Lucy said, preparing herself for a dozen puppies at best, or a severed horse head, at worst.

“Okay, then,” Jiya said nodding. Then she leaned forward slightly and opened the passenger’s side door. Lucy watched, head tilted to the side, as an impressively tall man fell halfway out of the car.

“Is he… dead?” Lucy asked it was hard to tell if he was breathing.

“No, no! He is just in shock. Please, help me get him inside?” Lucy, who was unnaturally strong, found the man more so awkward to carry, due to his dimensions, than anything else. However, she did the work without even breaking a sweat. Jiya had pulled out the couch, which thankfully made a bed big enough for him. Lucy set him down and tucked him in. All the while the man remained unconscious. She noticed he looked to be some sort of eastern European. He had a handsome face, with a sharp jawline and prominent cheekbones. His eyes were endowed with thick lashes. As she stared, Lucy wondered what color might reside beneath his eyelids.

“Green,” Jiya said as she came out of the kitchen with a hand towel. She spoke as she gently wiped the blood from the man's hands. “I know I would have guessed brown. But they are green. Strange, huh?”

“What happened?” Lucy asked softly, as not wake him.

“His wife and daughter were murdered. I got the gunman before he was killed, too.”

“Why did you pick him up? Why not let the police take care of him?” Lucy asked, Jiya was like a little sister to her, and it distressed her to see the vigilante act so recklessly.

“What and let him go down for a murder he didn’t commit? Besides… I-I just, I had a feeling?” Jiya said, as if unsure of herself.

“A feeling?” Lucy gave Jiya a pleading look. “Do you want me to investigate?”

“Yeah, I do… If you’re offering. I think he has more to do with the bigger picture than we realize.” She offered, with no evidence to back it up.

“The bigger picture? You mean Rittenhouse?” Lucy’s voice dropped to a whisper, just in case he woke up.

“I don’t know- its intuition, Lucy. It could be anything. But, yeah, something as important as that.” Jiya said, looking at the man on her pullout couch.

“Okay, okay. Well, I need to make sure I interview him as soon as possible- so you go take an Ambien and get some sleep- we don’t want you to start having fits, okay?”

“Okay,” Jiya nodded in tired agreement. Lucy knew that if Jiya went too long without good sleep- or if she had too many visions in one day, or too much excitement, she would start having seizures. Those seizures were accompanied with only fragmented images. It would be nothing useful, just all danger and unwarranted pain and exhaustion for Jiya.

Lucy looked at Jiya, she wasn’t one for being soft- not after her cold childhood, not after witnessing her sister die in front of her. But Jiya was different, Jiya was family. Lucy pulled her friend in close, “Oh, Jiya.” She said as she felt dampness accumulate on her shoulder- Jiya was crying. “You did a good thing today, you saved a man- That’s a good thing. Okay?”

Jiya nodded into her shoulder. Lucy pulled her back to look at her.

“You saw them, didn’t you- the wife and child?” The look on Jiya’s face was enough to say yes. Her expression twisted in anguish.

“Lu,” She hiccupped, “Who the fuck does something like this?”

“We’re gonna find them, okay?” Lucy said. The anguish this caused her friend- her best friend, really, solidified her resolve. “In this ‘til the end?”

“til the end.” Jiya nodded. Then began to wipe her tears away. “Okay, I am sorry… I am gonna get ready for bed. There is a pillow and blanket in the closet if you need it for the chair. Thanks for staying with him- with both of us.”

“Of Course. I love you, Jiya.” Lucy said, her heart aching for her friend’s pain.

“I love you, too, Lu.” Jiya turned away and went to the bathroom.

Lucy sat in the chair by the couch. She looked at the man, his brow furrowed on his handsome face. What was he dreaming about?

  
_You poor thing,_ she thought to herself. It was strange. Lucy had seen a lot of things since her childhood- parents killed, sisters, but never children. Lucy shook her head at the notion. Before she realized what she was doing, she brushed some hair out of the man’s face.

 _We’re gonna get ‘em, we’re gonna make ‘em pay._ she thought, determined. The man stirred under her touch and then settled back into a slumber, his expression a bit more peaceful. As Lucy sat back, she pulled out her whiskey and drank a generous mouthful as she thought about all the stuff she had seen.

Two years ago, Lucy, Amy, and Jiya had learned that they had all be victims of Rittenhouse’s experimental treatments- Jiya's father and Amy and Lucy's dad had cancer. The Doctor treating their fathers suggested bone marrow transplants, and the girls were prime donors. Turned out the Doctor just wanted to get the kids on a drug regimen for twelve weeks. The drugs made them very sick- and at the end of the trial, they all had powers, and their fathers had both mysteriously died during a round of chemotherapy. Amy had been the most impressive with her powers, she could make people see and hear things- literally anything. One time, when the girls were out drinking, and a group of men were following them down a dark alley, Amy made them see and hear a pack of bloodthirsty wolves and police sirens- needless to say, the men ran off.

For Lucy’s birthday, She once made her a beautiful garden, and then proceeded to place images from Alice in Wonderland in the enchantment- Amy was nine, Lucy was fourteen, it was so beautiful- complete with a mad hatter, and a tea party. Lucy smiled at the memories. Lucy didn't even care that she was a little too old for such things- she and Amy had the best tea party that day. 

The only person the illusion didn’t work on was Jiya. So, when Amy died, Lucy called Jiya immediately. She came over and confirmed it was real. Amy had been brutally attacked outside Lucy’s home. Lucy found her gasping, bleeding out from a knife wound to the chest. Her last words were _“Mom, Lucy… Mom.”_ Her mother went missing that night, too. The police and Lucy assumed that she was murdered as well, there had been no sign of her since- not even in one of Jiya’s visions. Lucy’s entire family was gone in one night, just like Flynn’s.

Lucy wasn’t sure why, but she always felt that Rittenhouse was involved- even though she had no idea who or what they were. When cleaning out her mother’s house, she found a few papers with the name on it. Nothing incriminating, but she kept them just in case...

Quite suddenly, Lucy felt the weight of the whiskey on her eyelids. Her head was swimming with thoughts, information, voices, whispers, and screams. She tried to silence them. Slowly, she got up and grabbed the blanket and pillow, she reclined the chair and laid down-

 _Tomorrow_ , she thought to herself. _Tomorrow, I might have more answers..._  

But... Then again, after talking to Garcia Flynn, she may just be left with more questions than answers. 


	3. The Punisher

Garcia Flynn woke up feeling like a train had hit him. All too quick, the darkness behind his eyelids was encumbered with images of the night before.

_His wife._

_Lorena._

_Shot._

_His daughter._

_Iris._

_Shot, too._

_Dead._

He felt empty. Hollow. The shock of it hardly registering. When he opened his eyes, he was met with the vision of a somewhat pale and slender woman, with long dark brown hair, looking down at him. She wore a long sleeve black t-shirt and had her hands in the back pockets of her dark wash skinny jeans. She was frowning… Then suddenly, she smiled.

Then Flynn realized she wasn’t a dream, she was real and she was looking at him.

“What the hell?” Flynn snapped up, as the flimsy bed buckled under him. “Who are you?”

“I’m Lucy Preston.” She stated matter-of-factly. “And you are Garcia Flynn.”

“What’s it to you?” He growled. His head was pounding- as it had every morning for the last 6 months. He rubbed his temples and cracked his neck, trying to relieve the pressure. When he looked to the woman again, she handed him a flask.

“Whiskey.” She offered. He took it, he wished the burn was real- it was what he deserved after all he had done, all he had failed to do. “Where is the girl? The middle-eastern one?”

“Ah, Jiya. She is Lebanese. She appreciates it when people get that right, though she will never say it.” Lucy mused. “She went to get us coffee. We are both going to need it.”

Lucy’s expression was one of solemn respect. She didn’t seem to pity him- which he appreciated, he couldn’t bear pity from anyone- especially a stranger. Lucy stepped back and sat on a recliner that Flynn hadn’t yet noticed.

“Mr. Flynn, I am going to need to ask you some questions about last night.” She said, leaning forward her elbows resting above her knees.

“Garcia.” He said. And then took another swig of whiskey.

“Pardon?” She was genuinely confused.

“You can call me Garcia. Please.” He looked up at her, noticing she had honey brown eyes. Eyes that he would have considered beautiful, if he were indeed capable of considering anything other than his own personal abyss.

“Very well.” She said, taking a gulp of air and trudging along. “Garcia.”

When she said his name, she pursed her lips. She knew. He knew she knew. She didn’t want to say it. So, he would.

“You know.”

“Yeah.”

“Jiya told you?” It was the only logical explanation.

“Well, she needed help carrying you in here.”

“Oh, and you helped her?” Flynn asked, the alcohol adding some bite to his words.

“Well, I did it. If that is helping.” She said it with such a straight face, Flynn wouldn’t even be aware she was lying, if it were possible for her to do such a thing.

“Funny.”

“I wasn’t joking.” Her eyes seem to bore into him. It was unsettling. But, he let it go.

“Okay, your questions? Let’s do this before I lose my will to live.”

She frowned and took a deep breath.

“Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt you or your family?”

“Not exactly. I mean, my job could be dangerous, but I never left a mission incomplete, so I didn’t think retaliation like this would happen.”

“Think hard, did something happen recently? Anything suspicious?”

Flynn closed his eyes, he thought about work- right before he got fired some stuff happened.

“Um, ever since my mission to Croatia, where I was captured, I have been benched. I noticed some transactions- shady stuff. I thought it was standard money laundering. So, I reported it.”

“You worked for the NSA, correct?” She had pulled out a file. “Your superior was Jake Neville?”

“Yes.”

“Ok, Garcia. What did you report to Mr. Neville? Please, be specific.”

Flynn suddenly remembered his training, knowledge is power- and why was he giving someone he didn’t know power over him?

“Okay, why should I tell you anything?” He questioned. “I mean, I don’t know you, I don’t know if I can trust you. Why?”

“Jiya asked me to help exonerate you- I am a P.I.” Lucy nodded- before Flynn could even question. “I am just trying to understand what happened- we both know you didn’t kill your family. The media is already claiming you did. So, we need to get started on this.”

Flynn wasn’t sure why, but he trusted her- or at least he wanted to.

“The money, it was coming from a-“ Flynn’s eyes grew wide. He realized a commonality between his experience and the woman before him. “I have to go.”

“Wait, what?” Lucy stood up just as Flynn did. “You can’t leave. All of Southern California is looking for you.”

“Well, let them look. I am not talking to you anymore.” He walked toward the door, Lucy blocking him.

“Don’t make me subdue you.” She said flatly. Flynn couldn’t help but laugh. Was she serious?

When he made to move forward again, Lucy was pushing on his chest- it seemed like she did so lightly, but with in seconds, he was on the other side of the room, against the wall- pinned, unable to move.

“What the fuck?” He said, struggling against her. She didn’t even break a sweat. She acted as if she casually did this every day. Well, maybe she did. Flynn tried in vain to struggle. Lucy pushed just a little bit, and he heard a pop behind him, and then the sound of the wall cracking. When she let go Flynn fell to the floor, gasping.

“So,” She said, offering her hand to help him up. “You are going to answer my questions, right?”

Before he could rise, the door opened, and Jiya stood in the doorway.

“God, Lucy, my wall!” She yelled, clearly annoyed. “Again.”

“He tried to leave.” The woman acted like this was normal behavior for people.

“Okay, when I said make sure he doesn’t leave, I didn’t mean break his clavicle!” Jiya set the coffee down and offered to help Flynn. He wasn’t sure why, but he took Lucy’s still extended hand, and Jiya’s. He didn’t physically need both or either, but he felt he wanted to accept their help. The simple moment seemed symbolic.

“Whatever.” With that, Lucy ended the mini-feud. “He was just going to tell me about some weird money flow. Flynn worked for the NSA. He was a field operative until six months ago. Then a pencil pusher until a week ago.”

If Flynn thought this woman was at all soft before, it must have been the whiskey.

“The money,” Flynn said, walking back to the bed and sitting down, as he adjusted his now sore rotator cuff, “Came from an account belonging to a Carol Preston,” Flynn stressed the name to Lucy, making it clear that he had an issue with it. “She was one of many names on the account, but it looked like she stopped signing anything over about two years ago. Someone named Benjamin Cahill had been managing it since.”

Both Lucy and Jiya straightened. They didn’t say anything.

“The money was going to The Cahill Foundation, on behalf of University of San Francisco Pediatric Research Center.” The women remained stoic. “From there, a large chunk was going to Mason Industries. I looked a little closer, the project at Mason Industries was labeled ‘Legacy’ The Cahill Foundation and another agency, called ‘Rittenhouse’ were collaborating on it. So, I reported it. I was fired the next day. And then… Well, you know.”

“Jiya,” Lucy ventured, “Can you have Hero look up Project Legacy- and try to establish the money trail? I have a friend at Mason Industries who can get us in- you lost your job by now, right?”

“Um, I quit. It’s different.” Jiya said, her hand up as if to block Lucy’s ludicrous face from view. Lucy gave her a knowing look, one that called bullshit.

“Okay, well, send me your resume. I am going to get my friend Rufus to get you in at Mason Industries- you’re going undercover.”

“Ooohhh! Exciting!” Jiya’s eyes glittered, as she clapped her hands and Flynn couldn’t help but feel a little enthused by her reaction.

“Anything else, Garcia?” Lucy asked, her expression soft again. “Even the tiniest thing can help.”

“Well, I normally wouldn’t tell anyone this- but you’re obviously both… gifted… Iris was too. Psychokinesis.”

The women didn’t miss a beat.

“Was she given treatment before she got this ability?” Lucy asked.

“No… She was born with it.” Flynn said, confused by her question. “Were you not?”

Both Jiya and Lucy shook their heads. Suddenly Flynn felt a jolt in his heart.

“So, it is possible?” He said it more to himself than the others, but they heard him, nonetheless.

“What do you mean, Flynn?” Jiya asked, stepping forward.

“Obtaining abilities… You got yours through treatment?”

“Yeah, pills- we think. We were young though, so it’s hard to know for sure.”

“Garcia, did something happen to someone else? To you?” Lucy asked.

Flynn just stared at his hands. He didn’t know if he could trust them. And he didn’t like using his ability. Hell, he didn’t even know if he could- he had been suppressing it since he was captured- since he was forced into it.

“I, um…” He shook his head starting over, “Six months ago, when I was in Croatia, I was on a mission. I was captured… Some things happened to me. I was hooked up to machinery. Underwent torture, was given hellacious amounts of medication, mostly intravenous, a lot of sedatives… Something happened to me.” He took a deep breath. The memories he had, he always hoped that they weren’t real. That they were a horrible hallucination, that maybe he was drugged and dreamt it all.

“I have no idea how I escaped. But, when I came to, I was standing the middle of the bunker I was being held in- and there were bodies… Everywhere. My captors had all shot each other, and the other prisoners… They were dead, too. I was the only survivor.”

Jiya and Lucy waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. He couldn’t tell them the rest, that he made all those people kill each other- even if he wasn’t aware of it, he was still a monster. Before he left the underground prison, he went and watched the surveillance, and saw himself, standing in the middle of the chaos. He was moving his hands and directing people, choking them, snapping a neck or two. With a flick of his head, a woman in a lab coat shot her co-worker in the head and then herself… And it continued for a blood curdling 10 minutes. People running, hiding, trying to get away from him. He had no idea why he lost control, or even how. But, he never wanted to do that again. He never wanted to see those powers.

_But, that was before Lorena._

_That was before Iris._

_That was before he had someone to punish._


	4. Hired Hand

Las Vegas, Nevada

 _Well you're dirty and sweet, clad in black_  
Don't look back and I love you  
You're dirty and sweet, oh yeah…

_Get it on, bang the gong, get it on_

_Get it on, bang the gong, get it on_

Wyatt Logan sat back as Tina… No, wait, Mary… No… Star. _Yeah, Star_ (he thinks) swirled around the stage, strutting up to him, grazing her hair on his chest. Dipping down and forward, the woman allowed her ample bosom to graze his chest. _Perks of the job,_ he thought to himself.  Wyatt wished he could say he looked at her with adoration or hunger even… But, under the dim red lights of the club, he looked at her with a numbness- He had her, and Tina, and Mary, for that matter, plenty of times. Now, sitting here at god-knows-what-hour, all he truly cared about was the two fingers of whiskey neat in his glass. Was it his second or third? Hmmm…

Maybe later, he’d be two fingers deep in Star… _Or was her name Mary, after all?_ God… Really, he didn’t know.

_You're dirty sweet and you're my girl_

_Get it on, bang the gong, get it on_ _  
Get it on, bang the gong, get it on_

He laughed a little to himself as Star (that’s what he going to go with) slid onto his lap. The club must be dead because usually, security didn’t let her do this… But, then again, he was security…

“Alright Baby Doll, you should focus on your set.” He laughed, pushing her lightly to encourage her to move back. She kissed him tongue and all, he tried not to think of what drug residue might get on his tongue, if he started to feel jumpy, he’d know why.

“You’re no fun, Donny.” She pouted, but she got up, and strutted away, looking over her shoulder to give him a flirtatious glance.

“Yeah, Donny… You’re no fun.” As the familiar voice of Benjamin Cahill echoed behind him, Wyatt’s stomach turned… _This couldn’t be good._

“Ben.” He said simply, setting his glass down with a thud.

“Mr. Logan.” Cahill hissed as he sat down next to him. “Or are you using a cover? Donny Danger, perhaps? I like the ring of that.”

“Why are you here?” Wyatt didn’t waste any time. He knew from experience that a Cahill was like the eye before the storm.

Cahill thanked a waitress as she delivered a drink to him.

“I have a job for you.” Cahill took a sip of his drink, and then pulled out a file. Handing the file off to Wyatt, he spied the name on it. _Garcia Flynn._

“What is that? Some secret formula for Irish Salsa? Talk about cultural appropriation.” He muttered the last part to himself.

“It’s a job. One that the two-bit thugs that got hired botched.” Cahill looked up at the stage. “This is a _savory place_ , Logan.”

“Don’t flatter me,” Wyatt said, flipping through the file quickly. “I gotta pass. I don’t do assassinations, and I definitely don’t clean up after Rittenhouse. Not anymore.”

“It’s funny, I don’t remember giving you a choice.” The mock civility in his voice was a dangerous clue. Wyatt straightened up. “Or do you forget how I got your court-martial thrown out after you deserted when Jess went missing?”

Wyatt flashed him an angry glare, “Don’t you dare use my wife-.”

“I found her.”

It was simple. It was clear and steady. But, Wyatt couldn’t believe what he heard.

“Yes, that is what I said, I found her. Well, really Rittenhouse did. If you want to see her, you will take this job.”

“Is she-?” He gulped, swallowing his fear. “Is she alive?”

“Oh, very.”

“I want proof. Proof of life.” Wyatt said, setting the file down next to him.

“And then you’ll-.” Fighting his desire to pull a gun on the man, Wyatt turned sharply.

_“Now.”_

“Easy, Donny.” Cahill eyed him with amusement as he pulled out his phone. He pulled up a video, and sure enough, it was Jessica Logan. She looked happy enough. She was sitting in a room, playing with several children, practicing the alphabet. A few of the kids looked somewhat withdrawn, but most of them looked happy, as Jessica led them through the song. “I have another video for you. Your target, he attacked an American military medical base.”

“You mean a Rittenhouse Military Medical Base?” Wyatt questioned openly.

“Is there really a difference, Wyatt?” The man smirked, knowing Wyatt couldn’t argue. “Watch.”

Wyatt eyed the phone again, which played a video. It looked like it might be webcam footage. A man in a lab coat was talking to the camera in language Wyatt didn’t understand. Then, suddenly, people were standing up shooting each other and themselves. The man that had been in front of the camera was shot in the head by someone next to him, and his head slumped in front of the computer. A tall figure appeared in the background, looking around with eyes that looked demon-possessed. Wyatt saw someone crawling on the floor, as the man, who Wyatt recognized as Flynn, jerked his head and the person’s neck snapped. Then something hit the computer, and the video failed.

“That was… Garcia Flynn?” Wyatt asked.

“Yes. He doesn’t know he can do that. That is why he needs to be exterminated… He is very dangerous, just like his daughter was. People like him, they are a national security risk.”

“How can he _not know_?”

“Some people suppress it. Some people don’t get powers until later in life.”

“Why was he in a medical gown? And that base, was it underground? What language was that?”

Cahill laughed lightly.

“Don’t ask questions, Logan. Read the file, do the job. Then you’ll get Jess back- and we can talk about ending your contract.” Cahill handed him another envelope, this one was thick. Looking inside, Wyatt found a fat stack of cash, a handgun, a bundle of identification papers and a burner phone. “The money is for your trouble… and for some medical tests, if you need them.” Cahill eyed Star suspiciously.

“Fuck you.” Wyatt hissed. 

“See you soon, Donny. Use the burner to call me, if you need anything… But, I am sure you won’t need anything.”

Wyatt stared wordlessly at the man as he walked away. As soon as the man was gone, Wyatt made his way out of the club. Looking at his phone, he realized it was 8 am- it felt both early and late... He would take a shower, eat, sober up and head to Garcia Flynn’s home. Modesto was almost eight hours away. Flynn had disappeared around midnight the night before. According to the file, no security or CCTV images were found of him. Wyatt knew someone must have wiped everything from the servers- there is no way he wasn’t caught on a camera.

That meant only one thing- he was part of some sort of organized outfit. Wyatt prepared himself for the worst. There was no way that he was getting close enough for Flynn to take him out all Kilgrave-style. Getting back to his room, he packed up his semi-automatic rifle, enough cocaine to last him the drive (Wyatt hated the stuff, but it came in handy when he didn’t have time to sleep… and it was Star’s anyway). He showered quick, and left, deciding he would get food on the way.

He decided not to leave a note for Star, one because he was afraid that her name might, in reality, be Mary or Tina… and two, because their relationship was a dime a dozen, she’d have a new “Donny Danger” in her room in no time.

* * *

 

“We need to talk,” Jiya said, as Lucy was looking at Garcia, who was staring at his hands, stunned.  Slowly, he laid back down and stared into a corner. He was gone. It would take hours, maybe days for him to snap out of this. They didn’t have that time.

“Yeah. I’d say.” She turned to her, eyes searching her friend. “Sorry about your wall.”

“Uh… Just get me another tapestry, and we’re good…” Jiya smiled. “So, what does creepy doctor have to do with all this- Dr. Benjamin Cahill, he was the one that put us through that trial right? He knew your mom… and Rittenhouse? How are they connected?”

“I-I don’t know, Jiya.” Lucy bit her cheek. How _was_ her mom connected to all of Rittenhouse and The Cahill Foundation? Was her family somehow connected to Garcia’s family’s death? God, she hoped not. “We have a lot of things we need to figure out. How about you give me your resume, and we will get started on getting you into Mason Industries.”

“Lucy,” Jiya lowered her voice and leaned closer. “If he has powers…”

“We don’t know if he has powers or not. Look, he is lost and hurting, I don’t think he’d hurt us. If he could, he would have already, right?” Jiya sighed and nodded.

“Let’s just focus on what we do know, okay? And that is that Mason Industries is the easiest way for us to get ahead of this.”

“Well, if The Cahill Foundation is involved, you could contact Noah…” Jiya’s ventured, as she logged into her computer and began to print off some pages.

“No. No! I am not involving him. The poor guy has suffered enough at my hands.” Lucy shook her head.

“If he knows something…” Jiya handed Lucy her resume. “Can you use something from your place to make that look pretty?”

Lucy nodded and laughed.

“Okay, I will keep Noah in mind. _If_ we need him… I’ll see you later. I need to get a move on, I am going to go home go through somethings, then I will head to Mason Industries, I will let you know what I hear.”

“Okay, cool. Do you think they have a good dental plan?” Jiya asked, rubbing her jaw, “Because I should really get my wisdom teeth out… They have been a pain.”

“Jiya, you literally have seizures that make you see the future, and a toothache bothers you?”

“Good point,” she said laughing.

 

* * *

 

Garcia waited for Lucy to leave before he got up. Jiya was typing away on her computer.

“Is it… uh, okay if I use the bathroom?” He asked.

“Hey, yeah. If you need a shower, towels are in the hall closet. You’re free to use my shampoo. Hope you don’t mind the girly stuff.” She laughed.

“Thanks,” he said simply. “And you don’t need to change your routine or anything because of me… I can be out of your hair shortly… I know how to disappear.”

“Flynn.” Jiya said, looking at him with an intense gaze, “listen to me. You. Aren’t. going. Anywhere.”

When he didn’t respond, she continued.

“You need help. You need us. It’s not the best accommodations, but we aren’t giving up on you… Somehow this is all connected, and we will figure it out… Ouch.” Jiya began to clutch her head, she swore as a migraine ripped through her.

“Jiya!” In a moment he was by her side, “are you okay?”                                    

“Yeah, I’m going to have a vision soon though. I gotta lie down. I’ll be fine.”

Garcia watched her as she walked to her room and closed the door. As thankful as he was that Jiya was so willing to help him, he knew that he needed to find the people who killed his family- _and take care of them._ He hated to invade her privacy… But it was the only way. As he got started, he realized she didn't have the set up to hack safely, and he couldn't justify putting her at risk, just to hack some bank accounts. After his report to his superiors, he was sure cyber surveillance would be tight... He had to find Hero- and get Hero to help him locate the people who put a hit on his family. It only took him five minutes to crack the encryption in the emails, which eventually led him to a name and address. Writing it down, he stuffed it in his pocket and slipped out of the apartment. 

 _Well,_ he thought to himself, _Rufus Carlin isn't going to work today._

 

 


End file.
